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30 Aug / Peripheral Vision

Being the second week of our holiday, my beloved and I changed accommodation to a new holiday home this morning.

We were so ecstatic to not have to wait for the official check-in time of 2.00pm that we may have gotten slightly carried away. When I checked the time on the clock as we arrived it said 5.17am.

It was pitch dark, which made the move harder, but it was worth it for us both to take our first shower in a week in an indoors, fully enclosed, bathroom.

Belatedly, I have discovered that our new accommodation also comes with faults, albeit faults that I shall endure with more good grace than I endured a large spider.

The decor theme of the house is wood and glass. It’s very pretty. Even after I’ve walked into the table for the fourth time, or banged by head on the rangehood for the fifth, I can still appreciate the elegant balance they bring to the home.

Unfortunately, due to my short-sightedness (of my eyes, not some sort of metaphysical failing) I cannot see glass furniture out of the corners of my eyes. Large glass frames obscure much of my vision above, below, and to the sides, and as they’re single vision glass they’re not cleverly designed to perfect my vision from every angle.

Pity, because I’m already feeling quite a few negative effects. The sighs of admiration at my brown legs will be partially due to them being covered in bruises.

If this was my own place, I’d simply resolve the issue by the prolific application of masking tape. As it isn’t, I’m just going to have to learn to scan.

The irony is not lost on me that my peripheral vision can pick up scuttling legs at ten yards, the only benefit of which is to make me feel unsafe and on edge most of the time, and yet something that could, and has, genuinely hurt me I remain oblivious to.

In other news it’s a scant few hours (24-ish) until the release of my third novel, Breathe and Release. That means today is the last chance that you have to pre-order it for your Kindle.

If you don’t you’ll miss out on that lovely feeling when you wake on the 31st of August to find that your Kindle went out and bought you a book just because it knew you’d enjoy it. (I can’t be the only one who feels that, right?)

I’ll tuck the link HERE out of the way all unobtrusive-like so you don’t feel any pressure.

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